The Halls of the Hallowed Dead are the only structure that still exists on the the surface of Shakazhan. It is an ancient place of burial for the warriors of the Timokuan people. Each warrior’s essence is preserve there for posterity, their voices recounting their accomplishments for anyone who will listen. Since it’s not integral to the functioning of the planet, Wil and his people haven’t fully explored it.

Wil has been to preoccupied with mending the Sentience’s networks to worry about the Halls, though he knows that the sentient robots have been repairing and restoring it. At the moment, it’s the only way in or out of the Sentience’s lair.

Muttering to himself, Wil walked down the long corridor from the Sentience’s lair to the Halls of the Hallowed Dead.

Wil felt compelled to deviate a little further to the west than usual and wandered to the very end of the branching hallway. His feet led him to a monument whose importance was overshadowed by other, more recent additions to the Halls. Long neglected, it stood on a wall by itself. Probably one of the original tombs placed here.

Wiping dust of ages off the plaque on the tomb, Wil deciphered a little of the legend carved there. He’d had been teaching himself the language, he christened Old Speak, compiling a database as he went. A word here and there stumped him, but he memorized the characters, intending to look them up later.

His left eye caught the hint of a bas relief, some sort of picture. He spit on his sleeve, using it to clean the plaque. Rubbing vigorously, he managed to wipe a six by six inch area relatively free of accumulated dust and grime of ages past.

Wil gasped. The area exposed showed a face—his face. There was no doubt in his mind that the visage depicted there, centuries old, was that of Wilhelm VanLipsig, The Lone Wolf. He saw the same firm jaw, the high cheek bones, chiseled features, it was all him. The most striking thing were the eyes. Crafted of onyx, they were black as night, glittering like a dozen stars.

Wil was unaware of the passage of time, having no clear idea how long he stood gazing at his own face, until his comlink startled him. Blinking, trying to focus on the here and now, he raised his hand in slow motion to answer, still looking at the portrait.

“Yeah?” His voice sounded far away, rasping, dry.

“Wil?” Matilda’s voice was tinged with worry. “You were supposed to be back half an hour ago. Where are you?”

“You need to come see something. Where are you?”

“I’m on Styx.” The worry grew in her voice. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, I’m fine.” He couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away from the portrait. “I’m in the Halls. I’ll wait here for you.”

“On my way.”

Wil knew Matilda had started to walk off the ship as soon as he answered her and would be nearly half way to him by now. A few moments later, he heard her running down the hall toward him. He stepped out of the alcove so she could see him.

Not all the new characters in The Maker are human, in fact, most of them are some sort of bipedal alien race. There are others, however, who are just as important, but aren’t remotely human. In fact, some of the best characters in the books are the sentient ships. We’ve already met Styx, Hammer, Anvil and Quick Silver. They are a family unit who have been remarkably helpful to the folk of Shakazhan.

Now, however, a galaxy wide call has gone out and the Timokuan people must respond. The ships are the ones who must carry them to Shakazhan. This scene takes place as the Timokuan prepare to depart. It is customary for the mated pairs to travel, leaving their children for who knows how long, because there isn’t any room on the ship for them. Reluctantly, Tianna and Lordvik must leave their family behind.

A gentle tingle started on their scalps, working down to their toes. The children giggled happily, holding onto their parents hands. Jessia clutched Acey’s hand in both of hers, not noticing that his fingers were going blue. Acey was too fascinated by the process to notice until they were aboard.

They found themselves in a large cargo hold with more of their people around them, equally benumbed. A strange voice made an announcement which they received in silence.

“Welcome good friends. We apologize for taking you so much by surprise, but it was unavoidable. Our attempts at communication were unproductive. We tried to warn you of our arrival. An anomaly of your planet made communication impossible until we were in your atmosphere.” There was a short pause and the voice continued.

“Please accept our hospitality. The Sentience has instructed us to transport you to Shakazhan. You’ll be taken to the quarters assigned to you. Your belongings have already been brought here and are waiting for you in your state rooms. As your children are such a vital part of you, we have invited them to join you, they’ll be well cared for. I am delighted to introduce myself, I am Bellerophon, your ship and home to you for the next few weeks. Welcome.”

As I’ve mentioned before, not every scene makes it to the final draft. The Maker was worse than some. Apparently, I had a lot to say in this book. A lot of it wasn’t necessary, so I made the tough choice to cut it out. One such scene follows.

Ben is trying to keep Wil occupied so he won’t dwell on something that’s happened. He decides the best way to distract him is to give him the workout to end all. After hitting the heavy bag, Ben asks the sentient ship, Hammer, for something special from his youth.

Ben picked up a whiplike weapon, weighing it, feeling it’s balance.

“I didn’t know you used these. Don’t see them often any more, they quit making them about thirty years ago.”

“Yeah, I got that about fifty-three years ago. I can’t remember what the damn thing is called.”

Ben eyed the weapon critically. “It’s got a lot of names, I always called it a snake-hammer, but it is officially known as a shnack-haueter.”

Wil’s frown turned to a smile of enlightenment. “Oh, yeah! I remember now. I got it in the Primos bazaar. This really gorgeous girl was selling them, so I bought a couple. Made a good excuse to talk to her. She was so hot, she made my skin sizzle.” He grinned happily as Ben handed it back to him. “Hey, you’re from around there, aren’t you, Ben?”

Ben’s nod was curt, his brow raised. His expression was unreadable, even to Wil. “I grew up around these. My mother’s family made them for centuries. They stopped when her father died. She sold them in the bazaar.” His statement hung in the air between them like an accusation.

He turned away from his son, hanging his head sadly. Ben clapped a work hardened hand on his shoulder that would have brought a normal man down.

“She couldn’t remember your name either. She just told me you had the most incredible eyes she’d ever seen, black as night and deeper than a well. That was how she described them. One look and she fell into those eyes. She said I looked a lot like you.” He pretended to be offended. “God, what an insult!”

Wil examined at him, unsure of how to respond. Ben’s mother had been dead several years, he knew and never married.

“Was she happy?”

“Very happy. I had a great childhood and a wonderful family. Where I came from, it wasn’t a big deal for a woman to have children by different men and never marry. I didn’t grow up like Riley.”

“Ben,” Wil hesitated, not knowing how to continue. “What was her name?” It was a plaintive request, odd coming from Wil, but it was important to him.

Lone Wolf Tales is a collection of short stories which is a companion to my Lone Wolf Series. It explores several characters in depth. Itza is a character who is introduced in The Kahlea – Lone Wolf Book 4 (Not yet published) She is the ancestor of Champion Mai, and the First Champion of Bankaywan. Lone Wolf Tales is now available from Amazon!

Photo by ZD Parish

“We want food, wine, whatever you have. Give us what we want and we will leave.”

“I doubt that. I see how your men are eyeing our village. I see the look of lust in your eyes. You’ll take what you want and kill us all anyway. I have a solution.”

The leader threw back his head, laughing gruffly, but he kept a wary eye on Itza. She could be formidable and she scared him. It was ludicrous! He, Elveric Woodgluc afraid of this tiny little cat less than half his size!

“What is your solution, little one? Do you wish to kiss me? I can arrange far better entertainment than that, I assure you.”

“No. I propose a duel, you and I will fight. If I win, you leave with nothing but your lives, never to return nor do my people any harm. If I lose, you have me and whatever else you want.”

Available now!

After many months of deliberating, I decided to reissue the Lone Wolf Series on my own, rather than going through a company. Wil’s back and better than ever, with brand new covers to show off! Step back into the world of Lone Wolf and let Wil, Matilda and the crew of Flotilla take you on a wild ride! Available now in ebook format, Lone Wolf books will soon be available in paperback at Amazon.

Shakazhan: Book 2 in the Lone Wolf series, Shakazhan picks up where Lone Wolf ended. Things are in a right state, but this time Wil and Matilda have some new friends. With the help of the Kindred, they just might make it out of this mess alive. Available July 9 in reissue from Pennywise Press.

The Maker: Book 3 in the Lone Wolf series, The Maker takes readers inside the planet of Shakazhan, introducing new and amazing characters. Though reeling from an attack on the planet, Wil and Matilda lead a struggling, but scrappy army to victory. Reinforcements arrive from a very unexpected source. Available August 13 in reissue from Pennywise Press.

The Kahlea: Book 4 in the Lone Wolf series, The Kahlea introduces new races and exciting new characters. Realizing that their army isn’t strong enough to defeat the Kahlea alone, Wil decides to send a small exploratory party into Shakazhan with the intent of meeting the inhabitants and forming allies. Has he finally bitten off more than the can handle? This fascinating new book will be available in September 2016 from Pennywise Press.

Lone Wolf is book 1 in my sci-fi series. Set in the year 3032, mankind has ventured into space and made a home. Three entities control the galaxy: The Navigation Guild, The Mining Guild and The Galactic Marines. Matilda Dulac is a member of the Mining Guild. Her ship, stationed in deep space, has an emergency and Wil VanLipsig responds. Unfortunately, there’s trouble between Wil and the ship’s captain, Marc. They fight and Matilda is forced to break it up by threatening to shoot one, or the other, or both.

“Could you maybe?” Wil gestured to the point of her weapon, motioning down.

Lowering the barrel, she kept her eyes on him. “Colonel VanLipsig, I’m required to quote you Guild Regulation 516 A, which states….”

“I know what the hell it states, Commander. Let’s pretend you quoted to me about unprovoked attacks on a fellow Guild member. Only he started it and I’m not Guild. I just transport stuff.”

The Fellician warriors, nicknamed The Cats – because they are giant, sentient felines– are some of my favorite characters. There are five of them and they have known Wil for many years. He’s often worked with them and enjoys their outrageous conversation and uninhibited actions. He, Marc and Matilda are invited to dinner with them at a quiet and subdued restaurant – or it is until The Cats show up. Caprilla is the leader of The Cats. Escascia, Cavitus, Errollic and Ariella all work for him.

Caprilla looked into Matilda’s face with his clear, blue eyes. “Friend Wil, this is an amazing lady you have here. Were I an evil fellow, I’d fight you for her.” He purred over the last word, his tongue trilling seductively.

“Aw, hell, Cap. It’s not polite to kill your friend before dinner. I guess you’ll just have to leave her with me for now.” He chuckled, taking her by the hand. “Don’t mind him, Romance, he’s always been a joker.”

Caprilla purred deep in his throat, his voice rumbling like thunder. “I never kid about anything, Captain Romance. I’ve no sense of humor.”

The restaurant was a little crowded, but they were able to get a table on the deck overlooking the water. Matilda tried not to stare at the Fellicians, but they fascinated her. She had seen non-human races before, but she had never met these amazingly beautiful cat people. She was surprised to find that many of their race were mercenaries.

“We are naturally warriors, but too long we fought one another. We were dying off, so our elders put us into mercenary service. We fight side by side with our females.” Cavitus bared his teeth at Escascia. “They give us much fight off the battlefield too. Friend Marc, do your females fight when you mate?”

Marc burst into loud laughter, spewing his wine on the table. Giggling, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Well, some of them do, Cavitus. Others make demands about what they want us to do and we comply or we might not get any.”

A few minutes later, their food arrived. Sensing that raw meat would be little appreciated by some of their table mates, the Fellicians ordered their steaks rare. Wil’s was almost as bloody. Only Matilda and Marc had their meat brown all the way through.

Wil looked at Marc oddly. “Since when do you eat your meat like that? I’ve seen people beg you to hit it again before it moos.”

Marc cleared his throat, scratched his beard and rubbed his nose before answering. “Well, after being on the station with Matilda, I kind of got used to it.”

Caprilla closely scrutinized Marc and Matilda for a moment. “She is your woman, Friend Marc? I thought she belonged to Friend Wil.”

Marc looked extremely embarrassed. “Well, she and I, uh, worked together before she met Wil.” He mumbled.

The huge black cat remained skeptical. “So, she was your woman and you gave her to him? That is a very kind thing to do, Friend Marc. If you require a female, I’m sure Ariella or Escascia would happily comply. I believe the genitalia are compatible.”

Matilda had never seen Marc blush. He bowed politely to the ladies.

“I appreciate the offer, good friends, but I assure you there’s no need.”

Caprilla was about to continue but hesitated, clearly at a loss as to how to proceed.

“Marc is interested in Commander Rebeckah Grammery,” Matilda interjected, figuring it was her turn to do the embarrassing.

Caprilla pricked up his ears, eyeing Marc speculatively. “That woman on the bridge with you? Oh, an excellent choice, Friend Marc. She is very pretty. I think the expression you’d employ to describe such a woman is smoking hot?”

“Cap,” Wil came to Marc’s rescue. “Why don’t you bring us up to date on what you’ve been doing for the last sixty years.”

Caprilla chuckled, taking the lead that was given. “That would take much more time than we have. But I’ll say that we have fought bravely and won many battles. I’ve heard some of what Marc has done over the years. What have you done to keep busy?”

Wil didn’t answer right away, gathering his thoughts. He had a rare moment where memories flooded over him, the blood, gore and violence would have made most other men ill.

Yes, friends, that’s right! The Lone Wolf books are finally coming back! Now, with new and more beautiful covers, you can get them in e-book form and also in paperback. However, if it hasn’t got this colorful new cover, it’s not an authorized Dellani Oakes edition.

Lone Wolf – Book 1, will hit the shelves on Saturday, June 11. Shakazhan – Lone Wolf Book 2 will return on Saturday, July 9 and The Maker – Lone Wolf Book 3 will follow on Saturday, August 13. I’m taking September off to visit my mom in Kansas, and will get The Kahlea – Lone Wolf Book 4, out in October. No set due date yet.

For your reading enjoyment, I have a short teaser from The Kahlea – Lone Wolf Book 4, coming in October of 2016.

Cover by Suzette Vaughn

The compound was eerily silent this late at night. It felt odd being outside at this hour. A shiver ran up his spine and he was almost sorry to be alone. Matilda lay asleep on Styx and Mariah had spent the night with Marc and Becky on Hammer. With a shrug to ease the tingle, he walked forward, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold. He’d forgotten a jacket and even he got chilly on occasion. His Kindred suit covered his body, providing the heat he needed.

A shadow moved to his right and detached itself from the duty post he was passing. The soft challenge, asking for a password, gave him the feeling of companionship. The young man stepped forward more into the light after Wil spoke the correct countersign, and smiled, offering the young man a cheroot.

“Lone Wolf, what brings you out at this time of night? It’s only for bats and night owls like me, not old men like you. You should be home asleep beside your beautiful wife.” He took the proffered cheroot, leaning over to the light Wil held up.

Wil chuckled. “Acey, anyone ever tell you that you’re completely full of shit?”

Smirking the younger man replied. “No more full of it than you, Old Man. Want company? The fellow relieving me is due any minute. You’ve the look of a man who doesn’t wish to be alone.”

“Actually, for the first time I can remember, I really don’t want to be alone with my thoughts. I find myself to be rather sullen company. I’d be glad to have you to talk to.” The two men leaned against the wall of the duty hut, waiting for Acey’s replacement in silence. When he arrived, Acey checked out and departed, walking aimlessly. Wil had intended to visit Leordovik’s tomb when he’d come down, but somehow Wil was drawn a different way. They walked slowly to the edge of the lake, gazing into the still, black water.

“The sky is so empty here, not like at home,” Acey said with a hint of regret.

“I know. My home world was alive with stars. I’ve seen so many other planets in my lifetime, so many night skies. I don’t know, sometimes this place seems like home and other times it’s like I’m a stranger here.”

“I know the feeling well. It’s disconcerting.”

“To say the least.”

“What brings you down here, Lone Wolf?”

“I don’t know. I thought I was gonna talk to the mummy,” this was the slang term for Leordovik’s entombed body. “I think maybe I came to talk to you instead.”

Acey laughed with a touch of irony. “You’re the last person I can think of who would want to speak to me on any occasion.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Truly, Wil, we’ve never gotten along terribly well. I don’t think you even like me very much.”

Wil puffed slowly on his cheroot, using the time to examine Acey appraisingly. Blowing out the aromatic smoke, he squinted through the haze before his eyes.

“On the contrary, Acey. I don’t dislike you at all. You’ve been kind of an arrogant young punk, but when I was your age, I was so full of myself, I was disgusting. Why I didn’t get myself killed in a bar fight, I can’t imagine. Maybe in my own way, I was being watched over by a guardian angel, who knows?”

“You believe in angels?”

Wil shrugged. “After what I’ve seen the past seven years, kid, I’m ready to believe just about any damn thing.”

As they wandered the seedier parts of town, they walked past a sign advertising: “Lady Lena, Psychic Readings.”

It had an arrow pointing down the street. In the next block, another sign. “Learn your future! See Lady Lena to find out what the stars hold for you!” There was another arrow. A third sign in the next block said: “Does he love you? Ask Lady Lena!”

Matilda eyed this last sign for a few moments. “Hm, that is a very good question to ask Lady Lena. Maybe I should find her.”

Wil turned her toward him, her fingers entwined with his. “If you really have to ask someone, why not ask me?” He kissed her gently.

“Do you love me, Wil?”

“More than life, Romance.”

Walking a little further, a large sign stood in a front yard. In screaming orange, chartreuse and gold, it said: “What does your future hold? Ask Lady Lena! No appointment necessary! Walk in and have a seat!”

She tugged his hands. “Let’s go in and see her.”She pointed to a small ‘Open’ sign in the window.

Wil held back cautiously, not from fear but courtesy. He knew how telepaths reacted to him and he didn’t want to hurt anyone. “Baby, if she is a real telepath, they don’t like me much.”

“Oh, how could she be? It’ll be fun. I’ve always wanted to have a psychic reading done. Come on!” She tugged his hand doggedly.

He reluctantly followed her to the porch of an old house on a back street. Debris and filth filled the empty lots around it. An old sign hung above the doorway, squeaking and thumping in the wind that had suddenly sprung up. The door opened quietly inward, the hinges smooth and soundless.

A dry, raspy voice emanated from a back room behind the faded curtain of cheap green beads. “You are expected, children. Come in and be quick!”

The room was Spartan with a single round table top sitting on crates. Though it was freshly swept, the small room smelled of decay and mold. A timeworn ceiling fan moved the thick, moist air with very little effect. Four dented, old, metal chairs surrounded the table; three on one side, the fourth facing them on the side near the curtain. The beads jangled aside, moved by a gnarled, age spotted hand, more like a crustaceous claw than a human appendage. An old woman stepped through.

The ancient, wrinkled face looked up at them. Wisps of thin, white hair were pushed back with another frail and trembling clawlike hand. No synth clothes here, she wore a faded black woolen dress; long sleeved, even in the oppressive heat. Around her tiny shoulders was a white knit shawl. When she looked up at them, clear, light green eyes bored into theirs; steady, calm, unwavering.

She smiled up at Wil, then turned to Matilda. “Welcome, my dears. Please sit.”

Wil remained standing. Matilda sat across from the old lady who hobbled to her seat. She was the tiniest woman Matilda had ever seen. Just over four feet tall, her body was frail and thin. Her gaze compelled Wil to sit reluctantly at Matilda’s side.

“Let me see your hands, child,” she said to Matilda.

Slowly, she raised her hands, holding them across the table. The old woman reached over gracefully, taking Matilda’s hands in hers. Like moths in the dark, her touch was light, fluttering. Lady Lena studied the back of Matilda’s hands, nodding and muttering to herself.

Lights on the computer console flashed, catching her attention. The bridge was dark since only the bots were supposed to be at work. Matilda checked the instruments carefully.

“Rubee, lights,” she told the ship’s computer.

“Initiating. Welcome, Commander Dulac.”

The lights came up slowly allowing her eyes to adjust. There was a flicker of movement on one of her screens. Why was a mining unit on approach? Curious, she activated the Tri-D viewer, focusing on an incoming ship. None of the miners were due until 0800. Glancing at the chronometer, she saw it was only 0230.

“Mine Unit One, what is your status?”

Getting only static in reply, Matilda zoomed the viewer trying to get a visual on the pilot. The mining station’s automatic hails were being ignored. Long fingers flew over the keypad as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Mine Unit One, do you have an emergency?”

Nothing. Hitting her comlink, she beeped Marc Slatterly’s cabin.

“Captain!”

“Hmph? What? Matilda? Where the hell are you?” He hit the visual, rubbing his face to wake up.

“The bridge. We’ve got a problem. Get up here.”

“What?” Suddenly all business, he rose abruptly, searching for his pants.

“You know Guild protocol, Matilda.” He struggled into his pants, getting tangled as he tried to put his feet through.

She exhaled slowly, wiping her brow. She knew protocol as well as he, but in the ten years of Mining Guild service she’d never had to use regulation seventeen – destruction of a manned vessel. Until now….

“Maybe his comlink is borked.”

“Hail him a third time, then initiate protocol.”

“Are you coming?”

“On my way.” He didn’t bother to finish dressing. Grabbing his gun belt, he took off at top speed to the lift.

More static. She keyed in the coded sequence necessary to transfer the miner’s load to the cargo hold. Taking a deep breath, she tried once more.

“Mine Unit One, this is your final warning before I implement your self-destruct.” Tapping her comlink, she prayed Marc would answer.

“On my way, baby. I can go only so fast. Damn lift is slow.”

“Shit. I used the transporter.”

“There went my power. You know the drill, Commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

She lifted the clear Lucite lid over the red destruct button, hands shaking as she keyed in the final sequence.

“Mine Unit One, Billy? Can you hear me? Slow down!” Still no answer. “Don’t make me do this,” she whispered as her finger pressed the button.

The miner’s craft imploded, folding on itself like a deflated balloon. Biting her lip, blinking back tears, she turned away. Marc walked onto the bridge a second later, eyes glued to the screen. Taking her in his arms, he held her while she cried.

“You had to do it, Matilda. You had no choice. Look at his trajectory. He’d have come right through us.”

“I never had to do it before.” She wiped the tears fiercely away. And to a friend.

Marc checked the console, securing the destruct button without a word. Taking a life was never easy, but he’d grown used to it over time. Years as a Galactic Marine had hardened him. More as a Mining Guild officer had taken the sting out of senseless killing, but the first one was always the worst.

Taking her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “You did your job, Matilda. Sometimes that’s not easy.” Puzzled, he paused, looking around. “Why are you up?”

“Something didn’t feel right. I came up to check it out.” She shrugged, pressing against him as his arms held her.

“You’re like me. Your hunches are rarely wrong. I don’t know how I missed it.”

Chuckling, he had to agree. “How about we go back to bed and let me try to get even?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I need something to take my mind off….”

Marc slung an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “I reckon I can distract you for an hour or two.” He chuckled, white teeth flashing through the confines of his dark red beard.

Back in his cabin, they wiled away the next hour. Afterward, though she was tired, she couldn’t go back to sleep. Something still felt wrong, like an instrument played off key. Now that there was nothing to occupy her mind, she focused on her misgivings. She wanted to wake Marc so she would have some distraction, but one look at his sleeping face told her that was unlikely. He didn’t sleep much, but when it did, it was deep.

Instead, Matilda rose and showered, dressing in a fresh uniform. She intended to go back to her own quarters after kissing him goodnight, but her feet took her to the cargo bay. As she approached, the creeping feeling on her skin grew worse, the hairs on her neck rising. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t determine what. Pulling herself away from the doors, she ran to the bridge, calling up the ship’s manifest.

There was a load of Trimagnite ore collected from the destroyed mine unit. In a panic, she buzzed Marc’s quarters.